Have you even noticed how "life" has a way of sneaking up on you and
making your somewhat "normal" life more difficult? Well, let me
explain. After two rather disappointing "developments" during my
girlhood years, I never paid my chest area too much attention; that is,
until I reached my middle sixties. It was only then that "Mother Nature"
decided to attune for her lack of attention in my youth and I awoke one
fine morning only to discover that I was now "amply" endowed and that's
putting it mildly.
My husband, having never been enticed by that area of the female
anatomy, simply looked at me when I tried to explain the latest
situation and slid off to work where he knew how to handle all sorts of "real" emergencies, praying like hell, that mine would all be over
before he had to come home. I was left to ponder about what to do with
my two new found treasures.
Having always been a conservative dresser and a modest person, I was
at a loss as to how to modify my attention grabbing mountains. I
shunned my sweaters and other tight fitting outfits and I buttoned all
of my blouses right to the top button no matter what the weather was.
Menopausal sweat poured off my fevered brow but I still maintained my
puritanical stance. Nobody was going to get anything for free and that
was it!
I took myself off to several local doctors, thinking that they would
have some expertise in that area of the body but they weren't any help
what so ever. One checked me over and said, "Mrs. David, all I can tell
you is that some women take a long time to develop." And he promptly
left the cold exam room. Another said, "Well, really, what are you
complaining about?" "Some woman would give anything to have what you've
finally gotten." I looked at him in disbelief and then reconciled myself
to the fact that men being men, they are born to think like that. I had
to bite my tongue and clamp my lips shut as I slid off the cold exam
table to keep from saying to him, "Well doc, how would you like it if
you woke up one morning and found that your testicles were all swollen
up and hanging down your legs like two grapefruits in a plastic bag!" I
wanted to but I didn't!
Life went on as life is want to do and the saga of the breasts
continued. I was beside myself about my ample bosoms and the bra
situation. Over the past 60 years I'd been the same bra size, 34B and I
hadn't even had to buy larger bras during two pregnancies. So, now I set
about trying to find new, comfortable fitting apparatuses that I could
wear on a daily basis and ones that would give me full coverage and
support.
I took myself off to every store that I could think of to find a
comfortable bra, to no avail. Wal-Mart had a vast supply of all kinds
and all price ranges and I bought them all, but they just didn't fit. I
went to JC Penny's and sought out a sales lady to help measure me. She
took me into an exam room, instructed me to lift my shirt and she slid a
cold measuring tape around me. She looked at it carefully and said,
"Well, you're a 38C and the good news is we have some new bras that will
give you the support you definitely need."
I happily followed her ample body back to the sales floor and
listened intently as she deftly slipped bra after bra off the display
hooks and pressed them into my hands. I looked them over carefully and
was cognizant of the prices on the tags swinging from the multicolored
garments. Twenty dollars for a wispy pink one that only a hooker might
wear, twenty-nine dollars for another flesh-colored skimpy one,
thirty-three dollars for one that female military troops might wear in
combat, several that were so rigid with steel under wires that one
couldn't even breathe properly and several that had foam rubber cups so
carefully molded that I would have appeared even more "bust" bound if I
had had to wear them.
Nearly every week I'd take one morning and go around to different
stores that sold ladies garments and look for a bra that fit. I'd
purchase two or three and rush home, praying like hell that one of these
would fit. I'd hurry into my bedroom, slip out of the breath
suppressing bra I'd been wearing and hurriedly try on all of my newest
finds. One might have "potential" because it fit in the cups but then
the straps would be situated in such a way that they'd fall off my
shoulders every time I moved. Another might fit comfortably around my
body but the cups were so filled with foam rubber that I looked just
like a friggin Dolly Parton! I'd fling these ill fitting pieces of crap
onto my bed and go to the living room to complain to my spouse who sat
not wanting to hear about my latest bra drama.
Leo would sit impatiently as I ranted and raved about the piss-poor
state of brassieres in our country and every now and then, he'd slide his
eyes away to see what was on the television screen. Upon seeing his
inattention to my plight, I'd wander off to do my housework, determined
that in the coming week, I'd find a bra that fit!
My husband sick and tired of hearing my complaints about my bras
being too tight, too loose, too hot, too sweaty, too revealing, and too
painful, decided one Saturday morning to do something about it. He was
in the living room, scanning through the television channels while I
cleaned up our breakfast dishes, when I heard him call my name. I
turned around and saw that he was intently watching an advertisement for
ladies' bras. I watched the ad with him for a couple of seconds. They
were offering the best fitting, most comfortable bras for nineteen
dollars each and if you purchased right now, you'd get three more, you
just had to pay the extra shipping and handling. Making no comment to
him, I returned to my kitchen chores.
At the end of the commercial, Leo turned in his chair and asked,
"Well, honey, what do you think, want to give those bras a try?" I
turned and looked at him and said, "Since when are you interested in my
bras?" He gaped at me for a couple of long moments and then he replied
in a snide tone, "Well, your bras or the lack of comfortable ones have
been the only topic of conversation around here that I can remember for
the past six months! I'm only trying to help!" With that, he turned
around in his recliner and sulked for a while. I went on with my
housework never giving it another thought, resolving that I wouldn't
mention my bra dilemma to him again, even if I was dying!
A week slid buy and then one afternoon, I was surprised to hear the
sound of a truck backing up in our driveway. The Fed-ex driver parked
the truck, jumped down out of his seat and hurried up the steps to our
front porch and tossed a small package onto our porch. I opened the door
and picked up the package. The smudged label read, "Lifeline Bras."
Surprised to have received the unordered package of undergarments, I
hurriedly opened the envelope and withdrew three bras, one was pale
pink, one light blue and the other was white. I read the enclosed
shipping order and was shocked to see my husband's name on the paper. I
read through the short note of instructions regarding the care and
cleaning of the items and then I examined them very carefully. They were
light, airy and all three had machine formed rubber inserts to give
one's breasts a "perkier" attitude. "Just what I need," I thought to
myself, "rubber implants to make myself look bigger!" But I had to
admit, my husband's having secretly purchased some bras unbeknownst to
me was really a sweet thing to do and I hurried into the bedroom to try
one on.
I slipped out of the horrible one that I'd been wearing, picked up
the white bra, stretched out the midriff part and slipped it over my
head. I pulled the stretchy material down over my body and adjusted it.
It was somewhat tight around my midriff but fit well in the cup. "Maybe
it does take a man to find a good bra after all," I conceded to myself.
The straps didn't slide off my shoulders as I moved about and there were
no metal hooks digging into my back either! I decided to get dressed
and take myself off to my favorite hunts around town, looking for a
bargain. I slipped on my favorite white sweater and was pleased to see
that my new "Lifeline" bra conformed to my body very well and I sighed a
sigh of contentment that I'd finally found a "bra for life."
Because the weather was still quite warm for Maine, I didn't wear my
coat as I strolled through Wal-Mart and feeling very comfortable, I
never once thought to check my reflection in any of the mirrors
scattered around the large store. Once or twice, I thought that some of
the other shoppers were staring at me and laughing behind their hands
but I just ignored them and went on my way.
Finally, having finished my shopping, I paid for my items, and as I
was preparing to walk away, the sales clerk, motioned me aside and
putting her head next to mine, she hissed into my ear; "Bra!" "Check
your bra!" Shocked and surprised at her audacity for having mentioned my
new undergarment, I slid my eyes down the front of my chest and was
shocked and mortified at what I saw! With all my moving and bending as I
shopped, the rubber inserts had moved around too! One of the little
brown bastids had slid out of place and was pointing due east while the
other little traitor had slid out of place and was pointing towards the
floor! My breasts looked as though one was about to take flight and the
other one looked as though it had died! No wonder the other shoppers
were laughing at me!
I took myself out of that store, threw myself into my car and headed
for home, mortified and ashamed that I'd looked so stupid and not known
it! I rushed up the cellar stairs to my bedroom, pulled that friggin bra
off and threw it on the bed and quickly pulled on one of my old bras.
As I finished dressing, I pondered about what to do about those friggin
bras. Leo was going to feel terrible if I didn't wear them but he's not
the one who had been humiliated in public. I decided not to tell him
what had happened at the store. I took all six of the bras, shoved them
into the back of the closet and closed the door.
That evening when He got home for supper, I noticed that he kept
glancing at my chest and finally he asked, "How do your new bras fit,
Honey?" I shoved another piece of chicken into my mouth and chewed on
it for a couple of long moments and replied, "Oh, they fit quite well. I
think I've finally found the right ones." I slid my lying blue eyes
away from his hazel ones, took a deep breath and hoped for the best.
"Well," he said. "I'm sure glad that bra hunt is over! It has been pure
hell I can tell you that!" Little did he know it but the bra hunt was
far from over.
Martha Stevens-David
Martha Stevens-David Column Magic City
Email:lmdmsd@megalink.net
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See also Vengeance is Mine a short mystery novel published at Magic City over 4 days.
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